The Arkansaw traveler., 1887-09-10
FARMHOUSE DISILLU-
 SION.

A. l.. H., in New York Commercial Advertiser.
 I had been reveling for weeks in the clover of summer resort advertise ments. Finally I made my selection. I rather liked the following:
 HILLSIDE FARM-Good country board ; milk; healthy situation; 8 per week. TIMO. THY HAYsEED, sweetbrier, Me.
 You can imagine me in very eco- nomical frame of mind. No fancy ho- tel prices this time for me. All is not gold that is gilt-edged. Here is a rough nugget. l propose to try it and enjoy nature. Then, too, Maine has sort of a charm. It is away off and rather mysterious. have never been ill Maine, and would like to snuff the ozone of the Pine Tree state. am happy. have found my Utopia.
 There is a great stir of preparation before the eventful day of departure for Hillside Farm. There is this to take and that to leave, and finally off we start, with the inevitable things left which ought to have been taken and others deliberately packed that were to have rested peacefully at home. One by one these pleasantries of memory occur to us as we leave the hot, dusty pavements and plunge out among the green fields. We catch glimpses of comfortable cattle munch- ing the clean, sweet grass; of cool, limpid streams, into which we would gladly dip; of gardens thick with cabbage heads; the white gleam of a tennis party greets us here, and yon- der the graceful profile of fat wo- man with big basket and a plaid shawl. Everything is picturesque, with the sweet indictment of Hillside Farm nestling in the mellowing per spective of our imagination.
 We have the usual vexatious delay of the road, the invariably hot journey of course (nor can we blame it for feeling hot.) The red headed ice- water boy at intervals, exasperatingly far between, rushes through the train like shooting star, without seeing anybody, and the newsboy lounges by us with persistent attention. What is most remarkable is the fact that the comet and the dawdler are one and the same boy. Not even Senator Hoar could be so hopelessly color blind as not to recognize the gleam of those auburn locks.
 We travelled all day, and when the train stopped at the little station of Sweetbrier and left us on the platform we could hear our hair grow, it seemed so quiet. Mir. Hayseed was on hand to see us, and off we started for Hillside Farm, which we reached in about three hours. The farm is very convenient to the railway station. By good luck there was a moon. Our first desire was naturally to find out why the place had been named IIill- side. The absence of any reason served to pique our curiosity. But other matters soon demanded our most urgent attention. There were "no mosquitoes" but minute gnats were as the sands of the sea-probably the ghosts of all the dead mosquitoes we had slain in the course of our lives. They laid siege to our slumbers that night as the tabled army of spirits be- leaguered the city of Prague.
 We are up betimes and looking around for the 'vegetables ill their season." and "plenty ofmilk." It was not their season apparently, and the milk was like the sky. At dinner we had vegetables, but there was an un- mistakable flavor of can about them. The following day got up very early. A large, well filled cart was just leav- ing the barn. It was driven by a small boy with big straw hat.
 "Where are you going, my little chap?" I asked, innocently.
 "Taking the green peas and the cream over to the station"
 O rural duplicity! Thus all our anticipations of country feasting were swept ruthlessly into the waste bas- ket. Thereafter we took our milk in varied installments. We had plenty of the skinned article at the farm. and the cream we purchased at the village confectionery store.
 But the air was fine. We had to go mile up hill in order to get it. "Hillside Farm was decidedly in the valley. But "Hillside" sounds we'll in an advertisement, and the man who can build an attractive summer re- sort notice deserves success.
 We also had an opportunity to study the inhabitants ofa small Maine village. If any one supposes that they exist in barbarous ignorance of affairs in general, he makes mistake. Every family takes weekly newspa- per, and nothing eludes their acute and systematic reading. They fairly chew that paper. No piece of news is too remote or foreign for them. Their criticism is scathing and merci- less. Crowned heads do not escape, nor Wall street and the stock market. The momentous questions that per-